


Tattered Hearts: Act 01- Lost Carcosa

by lessiehanamoray



Series: Tattered Hearts [1]
Category: Persona 5, The King in Yellow - Robert W. Chambers
Genre: Death, Gen, Graphic Description of Corpses, Post-Game(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22292212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lessiehanamoray/pseuds/lessiehanamoray
Summary: Akira Kurusu experiences a shockingly realistic nightmare. Does it hold the secret to correcting one of his greatest mistakes?
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira
Series: Tattered Hearts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604614
Kudos: 30





	1. Scene 01: On the Shores

_Along the shore the cloud waves break,_

_The twin suns sink behind the lake,_

_The shadows lengthen_

Akira Kurusu opened his eyes upon a misty lake; cold, wet, breeze brushing against him with the clammy touch of a waterlogged corpse. 

Twin suns sank beneath the lake. Both serene and disturbing, they produced a perfect scene marred by the sense of impossibility. 

He could hear the sound of waves hitting the shore, but couldn’t see them. Instead, a thick mist, like clouds, swayed back and forth. The light from the setting suns refracted to form hypnotizing patterns across the surface. 

An invitation: just step into the lake and keep walking. Akira lifted a foot, ready to do just that.

No!

With a rush of will, Akira shoved his eyes shut and spun around. He didn’t know what lay behind him, but at least it wasn’t that hypnotic lake. 

He took ten steadying breaths. 

The clammy wind stroked the back of his neck like a lover, coaxing him to turn around and look. 

Akira opened his eyes. 

Narrow buildings pierced the darkening sky. A large, bright, moon slowly rose in front of the spires. Its yellow light revealed the darkness of the buildings upon which it shone, their blackness absorbing all light.

Akira slid his gaze down, trying to make sense of his environs. Buildings like spires of jagged teeth. Black domes amid and upon the spires gave Akira the impression of jagged claws reaching through boiling liquid. 

A cobblestone road stretched directly before him, its matte black devouring his twin shadows. They appeared headless on the sand. 

Sand? 

Akira turned his head slightly, careful to avoid catching sight of the hypnotic lake. Sand coated the surrounding land, slowly stirring under the direction of the cold breeze. 

He shuddered. The way the sand moved looked like a giant creature meandering across the land. 

He couldn’t just stand here. 

The cobblestone felt cold on his bare feet, and sent shivers along his whole body. Still, moving toward the city seemed a better plan than staying by the lake. 

The motion in the sand stopped. Akira felt hungry eyes descend on him. 

He kept moving, cautious but determined not to falter. 

The stone beneath his feet no longer felt cold, and a comfortable weight hung from his shoulders. A moment later, Akira felt the familiar contours of a mask upon his face. As natural to him as the glasses he wore nearly every day.

As Akira Kurusu, he felt vulnerable. 

As Joker, he felt empowered.

He burst into a run. 

The flapping of leathery wings signaled the chase, sand whipped into a frenzy as the unseen creature rose into the air. 

“Arsene!” Joker called, ripping off his mask. 

The winged persona appeared above him. The persona even flapped its great black wings, staying over Joker as he continued his run. 

A great screech, like that of a hundred angry foxes, filled the air. 

The creature slammed into Arsene. Joker felt a sharp pain across his back, a phantom wound from the attack. Arsene dissipated.

The mask appeared once more. 

Whatever this thing was, it had talons. 

The screeching increased in volume. 

At least it provided a location.

“Eigaon!”

The mask burned away, and Arsene appeared once more. An eerie purple glow surrounded the mostly red persona for a moment before darkness shot forth. 

Inky blackness briefly outlined the creature

Six wings, long like a dragonfly’s. A sharp beak beak at the end of an elongated neck And two great talons at the end of long, almost chicken-like, legs. 

Joker dove to the ground as the creature swooped over him. 

A smell unlike anything he’d ever experienced assaulted him. Like rot and flowers and noxious gas. 

He lifted himself up just enough to puke on the obsidian cobblestones. 

What was this thing? Not even Mara or Mot had smelled. 

But this? This was bad enough that even his own bile smelled better.

It let out another ear-splitting screech.

Feeling extra motivated by the desire to never smell that thing again, Joker burst forward once more. If he could make it in amongst the buildings the creature would have a much harder time attacking him.

He just needed something to protect him from its beak and claws. 

Rangda maybe? Did he even still have that persona?

Joker felt his mask burn away. A metallic voice rang in his mind. 

“Striketh down the army of darkness…”

The sound of two objects slamming into each other sounded just above him. 

Joker glanced up just enough to see a robotic looking angel, Metatron, wrestling with the invisible beast. 

Not one to miss an opportunity, he focused his sight on the city ahead. 

Was it close or were the buildings huge? He had no sense of distance here, but staying exposed wasn’t exactly an option. 

Right now, he just hoped for only one of those creatures. The pressure against his temples told him Metatron was using quite a bit of energy holding this thing at bay. No way the persona could hold off multiple monsters.

And why Metatron? Joker definitely remembered using the powerful persona to create a weapon. 

A crow’s caw sounded from the city. Or, was it just in his head?

Hard to tell in a space like this. Especially since the whole thing had to be a dream, right?

Shitty dream. Especially if not even puking could wake him up. 

The horrible shrieking of the creature sounded once more. This time with friends.

“Makougaon.” Metatron’s robotic voice sounded through the air. 

The sky erupted in white light. 

Joker started feeling light-headed. He wasn’t used to unleashing this much power anymore. 

His mask appeared once more on his face. He just didn’t have the energy to maintain such powerful persona. 

Joker concentrated once more on the city. 

It didn’t seem so far now. He could make it!

The sounds of many, many sets of wings certainly provided motivation. 

He could probably summon Arsene again if he had to, but what challenges awaited in the city? And how much good could he do anyway?

Joker focused on the run, thinking back to Skull’s sprinting advice. 

If he didn’t make it in the final sprint, he doubted he’d get another chance.

The air above him swirled, tossed around by wings. The sickly-sweet smell whooshed around him.

Just a little bit further. 

The cobblestone path led to a main road, but Joker could make out an early turn tucked between two buildings. 

Oppressive darkness surrounded him, like being trapped in a dimly lit cell. Joker turned sharply, grateful to see that the side path was indeed a narrow alley. He stumbled a bit in the turn, and so simply dove through.

The creature slammed into building walls. Joker sat up to get a better look. It thrashed and screeched in frustration. Overhead, he heard several others join in the chorus. 

Its long neck reached for him, beak snapping. Its skin seemed bloated, almost waterlogged, and its dark eyes, barely discernible from its black beak, sparkled with malevolent intelligence. 

Joker pushed further into the alley. 

Several breathless moments later the creature lifted off into the night sky. 

Joker let out a careful breath. Given his abilities he’d fare much better in a city than in the open, whatever challenges awaited him. 

He stood, instinctively brushing off his coat. 

Looking around at the curved alleys produced by domed buildings and the sharp angles from the spires, not to mention the general gloom of this place, he felt both uneasy and more confident. 

His skills as a phantom thief would serve him well here.

_In Carcosa._


	2. In Carcosa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night falls in the strange city, and Joker witnesses something he could never dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up. This would be the chapter where gross imagery and corpses come in to play.

_Strange is the night where black stars rise,_

_And strange moons circle through the skies,_

_But stranger still is_

The seemingly empty city spread out before him. With the flying creatures gone, even the wind had stilled. No light flickered. No shadows stirred. Nothing moved. 

The city slumbered. 

Joker carefully peered out between the buildings. 

Waning sunlight struggled to reach the ground between obsidian buildings. 

Now to see what he could discover about this place. 

Joker carefully moved amongst the long shadows, staying close to the buildings and listening for wingbeats. 

He kept to the alleys and side streets, but tried to parallel with the large road he had first entered on. That task proved harder than predicted, the mix of circular curves and sharp angles making the pathways highly unpredictable, and dead ends common. 

Joker began to doubt these were buildings at all. He hadn’t seen any obvious doors, or windows. No laundry hung. No lights shone from within.

And still no sound. 

Only the dimmest remains of sunlight remained. Perhaps it was time to follow the central road. The buildings messed with his sense of direction already, and he wasn’t eager to try navigating in utter darkness. 

Besides, there were lots of narrow alleys around he could duck into if those creatures came after him again. 

Joker slipped between the buildings until he once more found that main road. The obsidian stone seemed to eat the last of the sunlight. 

As though in defiance of that black stone, the light suddenly blared through everything, a straight light down that greedy road, so bright that Joker was forced to shield his eyes.

And then gone. 

Joker held his breath, taking in the absolute darkness around him. It made him feel as though he would never see again. 

He stepped out into the main street. 

A sliver of pale white light peeked out ahead of him, seeming unsure if it should rise above the earth.

An excited chattering filled the air. 

Dancing lights, fox fire, began to exit the buildings as though through street level doors. Each wore different masks, and no one style seemed pervasive over the other. 

Joker braced for an attack.

Instead, they passed him, all of the floating flames heading towards the rising moon and the tall building behind it. 

He could hear laughter in varying pitches and, as he examined the situation, it became clear that the flames were individuals. Some moved slowly, with a sort of up and down hobbling motions. Other zigzagged lower to the ground, running around and between others. Different speeds. Different gaits. As unique as one might see at Shibuya crossing. 

As many different sorts of voices too, though Joker couldn’t understand any of them. 

Unsure what else to do, he walked slowly along with the procession, staying close to the buildings in case he needed a quick getaway.

The procession continued its merry way.

A voice quietly called out, “Joker?”

He stopped. That voice...Akechi? It sounded distant and weak. The sort of cry you expected visiting someone in the hospital, someone on the verge of death.

Shocked, Joker looked through the crowd of fox fire, hoping to glimpse Crow’s familiar red mask. 

“Hello?”

Damn it. “Crow!”

Several of the moving flames stopped, masks turning to face him. While there were several with the same long nose as Crow’s, none of them were quite right. 

He didn’t see the armor-like black mask either.

One of the flames approached him, taking a human form as it grew closer. By the time it spoke, it looked like an elegantly dressed European woman in a half-mask.

“Did you lose something?”

Joker stared at her. She wasn’t speaking Japanese, or English, or anything he could even identify, but he knew exactly what she said, as though somehow her words transcended the barriers of language. 

The odd speech of the procession, and of those who had stopped to whisper amongst themselves, slowly took on meaning. 

“My friend,” he answered. “He’s wearing a red half-mask with a crow’s beak.”

The woman clapped her gloved hands together excitedly. “That sounds so striking! Is it a dark red or a bright red? Does it have other ornamentation? Feathers, perhaps?”

Her own mask had quite a few feathers in a variety of colors. 

“Not bright, but striking, and nothing else. Just the mask.”

One of the other figures stepped forward, also taking on a human form in the interaction. This one was a dark-haired man in a white suit and white plague doctor’s mask with red lenses. Whether from the lenses or the oddly apparent codpiece Joker wasn’t sure, but this one made him feel uneasy. 

“Well, he’s bound to be at the palace, isn’t he?”

The palace?

“Oh yes,” the woman concurred. “Perhaps he went on ahead in his excitement.”

Maybe he should just ask what was going on. Say he was a visitor. Then one of the individuals still hanging back spoke.

“We don’t get many visitors after all.”

“And so tonight, we are all strangers.” The original woman beamed. “Isn’t it exciting?”

“I’m very eager to see the stranger beneath the mask.”

“Aren’t we all?”

“Well, I think he’ll turn out to just be a bore, but the party should be good.”

They all seemed like perfectly normal people dressed for a costume party, but Joker couldn’t shake a sense of uneasiness. They reminded him of the various humanoid shadows he had encountered during palace infiltrations, but much smarter. Like the whole person had somehow been consumed. 

Akechi’s voice sounded once more, seeming confused and disoriented. “Where?”

None of the people in front of Joker seemed to register it. Was only he hearing this? Was it part of a dream? Certainly, he had dreamed of Goro Akechi before, but never of this place. Or of an event like this.

Usually, it was the sound of twin gunshots which woke him. 

“We should continue,” the man suggested. “After all, want to be in a good spot for the unmasking.”

The unmasking, huh? 

“Mind if I go with you?”

“Of course not. The more the merrier, I always say.” The woman looked about ready to pinch his cheeks. 

Joker smiled at her, stepping more fully out into the crowd with his new companions. 

Each person who bumped into him became a visible human being, and each visible human who spoke to a flame converted the fire into yet another person. 

It had to be an effect of cognition. Something inside of him registering that these actions meant what he had perceived as fox fire was actually a person he could interact with. 

Still the effect of having the once eerie streets filled with joyful people and children was quite alarming. And quite the juxtaposition to the occasional confused cry of Goro Akechi. 

Was he here? Certainly, the space had confused Joker plenty. Still did, really. 

And getting a better look around wasn’t really helping.

For one, the large moon definitely rose in front of the tall building they all seemed to approach. Secondly, it wasn’t the only moon. A glance towards the lake showcased another one setting, and he could see one more hanging to his left, also somehow between the buildings. As though they were tall enough to stand before the heavens. 

He also had the distinct impression that the bulbous portions of the buildings moved. Perhaps it was a trick of his eyes in the strange lighting, but they almost seemed to pulse and wriggle like cysts waiting to break. 

“I wonder who he is.”

“Mama, where is he from?”

“I hope the queen sings for us tonight.”

“I bet this stranger is just one of us in a weird costume.”

Joker listened in on the snippets of conversation, still marveling on how he could understand sounds he didn’t comprehend. 

A bit further and he stood under the moon. It was odd, seeing it so close, but it did not look like the moon he knew. He couldn’t see the rabbit. 

Joker looked ahead to the giant building before him. The opening, for he could see no doors, reminded him of a gaping maw. Inside was very dark, but the lights some of the revelers carried indicated they rose higher once inside. 

He indicated to his travelling companions they should go on ahead, and approached slowly. He’d feel a lot better about this if he could find some windows or other means of escape.

Or entry, for that matter. 

Unfortunately, this building was surrounded by a rather large green space, meaning any attempt to break away from the procession would be quite noticeable.

He looked once more to the entryway, now quite close, and stopped. 

There, just across the threshold, stood Crow. His mask was split down the middle, just barely holding together at the base of the nose. And at the top of that split, a visible hole in his head. Dark blood spilled forth. 

Joker rushed forward, determined to help his injured ally. 

He stopped himself just before crossing the threshold. Crow’s eyes looked like glass, brown marbles looking out at him. His chest didn’t rise or fall. His arms hung limply at his side. 

“Crow?”

“Joker?” Akechi’s voice responded, but not from the figure before him. No, it came from further inside. 

“Crow, where are you?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see you.”

“What do you see?”

The pale face contorted.

“Joker, how am I alive?”

It grinned, that same wide grin Goro Akechi had once given to a cognitive version of Joker right before shooting him in the head. 

“How are you here?”

Maggots spilled forth from between its lips.

Joker instinctively stepped back. 

Tendrils erupted from Crow’s eyes, curving to look like horns except that they writhed.

“Crow! Tell me where you are.”

“I’m-”

The mouth opened wide as the jaw dislocated. 

“Joker, I can’t control my movements.”

Crow’s body erupted in maggots and flies. 

“Akechi!” Joker screamed.

A few heads turned his way, but as for the rapidly decaying body now collapsed on the black stone floor? No one seemed to care.

_Lost Carcosa._


	3. The Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joker meets the Stranger.

_ Songs that the Hyades shall sing, _

_ Where flap the tatters of the King, _

_ Must die unheard in _

Joker could feel the tears running down his face. He had never, even his worst nightmares, envisioned Goro Akechi’s corpse. Worse, he knew this was real.

He couldn’t imagine a sight this horrid. Or a smell this grotesque. Yet, he could taste the putrid corpse.

Joker puked, kneeling down as it came forth in waves. Each wave followed by a gasp. Each gasp followed by that horrible taste. Each taste followed by another wave. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was vaguely aware of Morgana screaming his name, but it was all just a vague impression. Likely an illusion from how used he was to having his friend beside him.

He no longer had anything to give. Not even the bile from his stomach. Some of it lay right in front of him, but much of it covered the decaying body. The maggots swarmed that as well, like a gourmet buffet. 

His stomach spasmed, determined to expel every last drop. 

How had he fucked up this badly? 

They had known. They had known for months that Goro Akechi was likely a Persona user, that he had experienced the Metaverse, and instead of reaching out, instead of trying to save someone abused by adults as they so often had before, they had tricked him. 

They had fought him. And he had died for them. 

Joker forced himself to stand up tall.

No one was perfect. Not him. Not Goro Akechi. Not Morgana. Or even Igor or Lavenza. They all made mistakes. They all had regrets. 

But if he could save Goro Akechi, he had to try. Even if it was just his soul or...who knew in this place? 

He did know he’d hate himself if he didn’t. That he would never live that feeling down. Never unsee that rotting corpse.

Joker, Akira Kurusu, whatever form he took, whatever mask he wore, he wanted to save people. To save everyone from themselves and from the cursed society which hurt them. 

He crossed the threshold. 

Only stragglers remained behind, the old or those with grumpy children, and so Joker strode confidently past them. A large staircase spiraled up the building, and he took those steps with confidence. 

Goro Akechi, or some remnant of him at least, was here. That he had just seen Akechi’s body decay didn’t matter. Not in a place ruled by cognition.

The stairs rose high, but not high enough to reach the top. He was certain of that much, especially when they opened up to overlook a giant ballroom. 

Costumed dancers twirled to lively orchestral music, performed by two groups along two different walls. Servants, all wearing the same full mask, maneuvered through the crowd with drinks and hors-de-vours. 

He scanned the crowd for anomalies and three individuals stood out. 

One danced with extreme grace and energy, seeming to cause all around her to laugh. She wore a ballgown mostly of pink, and draped to look like falling rose petals. Her mask followed the theme, a half-mask style designed to look as though it were made from roses, thorny stems and all.

Another woman stood out. She seemed older and moved through the crowd, greeting guests, and chatting idly with her visitors. Likely the host, her dress was a lavender color, and quite ornate, with a mask to perfectly match it. While the mask covered her face completely, and a headpiece most of her hair, Joker definitely got the sense that everyone knew her.

The third figure stood out mostly for its lack of ornamentation. It wore tattered yellow robes and a large hood covered the entirety of its face. Still, this figure attracted the most attention. It danced with no one, took no offered food or drink, and deftly avoided all conversation. Then again, no one it dodged seemed upset by it. All guests wore nervous looks once they got within speaking range, their faces visibly relaxing when they were paid no heed.

This then had to be the stranger. 

Joker could easily see why it had everyone’s attention. Even from the balcony high above, the figure filled him with a sense of dread. He didn’t want to know what those robes hid.

Joker started to move for one of the large staircases leading down to the ballroom. He needed more information. 

Perhaps a word with the hostess? Or to simply listen in to the gossip around the rose woman? Or perhaps better still to listen in on the servants? 

Joker moved near one of the doors through which servants went in and out. He felt more comfortable on the edges of the room anyway. He just wanted to keep track of the stranger. Getting surprised by that one seemed like a poor idea.

“Did the guest eat any of yours?”

“None at all. And you?”

“Not a bite.”

“Not a drink either.”

Their guest seemed quite the topic of conversation among the servants. One which continued even as the speakers changed.

“No wine.”

“No mead.”

“Not a drop of anything.”

“The mask perhaps?”

“I have not seen it.”

“Nor I.”`

“I hear not even the Queen has seen it.”

Queen huh? The hostess? Most likely. This place was certainly palatial enough. 

Actually, now that he thought about it, this place wasn’t just dreamlike. It was fairytale-like, similar to the stories so often told in western animation and tales. 

“Excuse me, sir, do you need something?”

Joker looked over to the servant who had spoken to him. A small man carrying a tray of some sort of meat on a cracker. Probably meat anyway. Akira didn’t know of any meat with purple insides. 

“Sorry. Just resting.”

“I see. Well, better get up there soon. Everyone’s going to be clamoring to see the unmasking”

Unmasking? Joker barely stopped himself from asking the question aloud, merely nodding. 

“Where’s the best spot?”

The servant thought about it a moment. “Queen Cassilda announces the moment, so I’d stay near her. She’s bound to bring her guest to the front.” The man offered a conspiratorial grin. “People are taking bets, you know. On both the mask and the face.”

Joker smiled back. “Are they now?”

“Could get you in on it,” the man offered.

“I’m plenty excited for the unveiling without it.”

The servant shrugged. “Your loss then.” He held out his tray. “Can I at least interest you in a nome cracker?”

Nome?

“No thanks. I’m not hungry.”

“Suit yourself.” With that, the man headed back into the kitchen.

Nome, huh? Somehow he knew the man didn’t mean gnome, but it was still a disturbing thought. Anyway, at least he had the queen’s name now. Cassilda. Not exactly a name he recognized, but given this place’s clear western influence, that didn’t really surprise him. 

He began moving towards the lavender woman, listening in on snippets of conversation as he passed.

“The byakhee were restless earlier.”

“I can’t wait for the unmasking!”

“Do you think they’re from the Hyades?”

Byakhee? Hyades? Those seemed like key words, so Joker made a point to remember them so he could look them up later.

He’d have liked to listen in more, but the crowd grew tighter, the conversations harder to distinguish, as he moved closer to the lavender woman. Joker managed to keep pace just a bit faster than the crowd around him, carefully sliding between the barest of openings. 

He could see the lavender woman clearly now. The rose woman had come up beside her, and gestured towards an individual in the crowd. 

It was like a bubble.. Everyone seemed to agree on exactly how much berth to give their strange guest, creating an almost perfect circle. 

Joker took everyone’s stares as an opportunity to slide to the second closest layer. The crowd could provide some cover.

He would rather see than be seen.

The two women stopped, parting so that their guest could stand between them. 

Seeing the stranger up close did nothing to ease Joker’s nerves. They were stiff and jerky, like an old marionette in the hands of an uncertain puppet master. Or like a wind-up toy just before it runs out of power. 

The stranger took their position. 

The woman in lavender held out her arms. The music stopped. 

“Along the shore the cloud waves break.”

The rose woman held out her arms. “The twin suns sink behind the lake.”

Together, “The shadow lengthen.”

The crowd intoned, “In Carcosa.”

Both women brought a hand to their masks. No one moved. Joker couldn’t even feel breathing from the crowd crushed beside him. 

The two women slowly lifted their masks, unveiling beautiful faces. The sort of faces Yusuke would desperately want to draw. Beautiful angles, with just the slightest imperfection to make them interesting, and dark hair tumbling along their shoulders. 

And the lavender woman, the older woman, the Queen, how her gaze held the crowd. For a moment Joker felt her eyes lock with his. He didn’t doubt they somehow locked with everyone in the room. Everyone except the rose woman and the stranger.

Everyone in the crowd reached for their own masks. Joker touched his hand to his. It would be risky to take it off. He didnt’ know whose cognition this might tie to, but he wasn’t eager to reveal himself. 

Or to accidentally summon a persona. 

“Song of my soul,” the older woman intoned, “my voice is dead. Live though, untied, as tears unshed. Shall live and die in Carcosa.”

Everyone removed their masks, lifting them high over their heads. Everyone except Joker and the stranger.

The younger woman took note of this immediately. “You, sirs, should unmask.”

“Indeed?” The stranger turned to regard Joker. 

Thoroughly exposed, Joker stepped forward. If a fight broke out, he’d rather not already be in the thick of a hostile mob.

The older woman spoke sternly. “Indeed, it’s time. We all have laid aside disguise but you.”

The stranger lifted their head. A simple white full mask covered its face, lines of gold making it both look elegant and diseased. More pallid than pure. 

“I wear no mask.” Their voice was clear, echoing through the chamber in the worried whispers of the onlookers. 

“No mask?” The rose woman turned towards the Queen. “No mask!” she screeched.

“And you?” the stranger asked Joker. 

Joker reached up to his mask. “I’ll unmask if you will.” A silly ploy perhaps, but he had to see what sort of guise hid beneath that mask. What sort of person accepted such a pale existence as their reality.

“I told you, trickster, I wear no mask.”

Another voice sounded from the stranger, “Don’t.”

Joker started. He knew that voice. “Crow.”

The stranger stepped up to him. The smell of death hung off them like natto left too long in the sun. They reached up, robe drawing back just enough for Joker to see the bloated hand beneath. A black glove barely hanging on to sticky skin. 

Someone screamed. “It’s him! It’s the King!”

Joker lunged forward, grabbing the edges of the pallid mask with both hands. “Arsene, give me strength!” 

His mask erupted in blue fire. 

More screams. 

The rose woman shouted, “No, you must not unmask another!”

The cold hands wrapped around Joker’s flaming mask. Skin popped and peeled, but the stranger seemed not to care, pulling on the flame with an amazing strength. 

“Arsene!”

The flame erupted into a giant winged persona. Needles rained down from the sky, causing all they hit to slumber. 

Joker pushed forward, leaping upon his opponent. Confused at the sudden lack of mask, his opponent went down with a thud and a squish. 

The robe began to open. Screeches filled the night, the same unearthly cry which had chased Joker into this city. 

Crow’s voice called from within the robes. “I am already lost.”

“Not if I have a say,” Joker growled back. Anchoring himself with one knee against the stranger, Joker pulled with all his might. “I’m not leaving you again. No matter what you say.”

With a final grunt, the mask gave way, tearing skin with it. 

Joker fell back. 

The stranger’s voice echoed throughout the ballroom. “And so we near the end of act one.”

Non-bloated hands tossed the hood back. Goro Akechi, bloodied and battered, one eye mostly swollen shut, and fresh blood running down the edges of his face, glared at Joker. “You idiot.”

He had never seemed so beautiful. 

Something big landed on the roof, followed by a succession of thumps. 

A cold gust filled the ballroom, quenching the many candles which lit the space. 

“You need to run.”

Joker didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed Akechi, forcing them both to their feet.

The robe slipped off, revealing Akechi to be much lighter than he seemed. Much lighter than he should be.

“Let’s go.”

Goro Akechi didn’t have the strength to argue.

_ Dim Carcosa. _


	4. Byakhee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the escape!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm so slow posting these. Maybe with Covid going around I'll try getting on a schedule. Still need to rewrite part 2 though, so it may be a bit. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

_ Song of my soul, my voice is dead; _

_ Die thou, unsung, as tears unshed _

_ Shall dry and die in _

Joker ran for the servant’s door. Would be nice to go the way he came in, but he doubted the main entrance would make the best escape route.

Mona would have his head for not casing the place properly. 

He still wished his friend was here. Mona had better night vision than anyone else he knew, and would have been invaluable in finding an escape route. 

As it was, Joker nearly tripped over one of the sleeping guests. He managed to catch his feet, awkwardly hopping over the surprisingly squishy form. 

The weakened Goro Akechi nearly fell over. And would have, if Joker hadn’t caught him. 

“Leave me.”

“Not a chance.” Joker began lifting Akechi onto his back. With a half-hearted chuckle, Akechi consented, wrapping his hands around Joker’s shoulders and shifting his weight to balance out. 

Joker could feel Goro Akechi’s blood against his face and neck. 

A screech sounded outside, like thousands of angry foxes threatening a rampage. 

“I’ll save you,” he hissed. With that, Joker broke into a run once more. Carrying Akechi proved a different challenge than dragging him behind. Joker had to move a bit more carefully, but that wasn’t such a bad thing with so many sleeping, or dead, bodies on the floor and panicked guests running about. 

The stink of decay began to fill the air and Joker swore he heard the buzzing of hungry flies. 

The Queen’s voice called out. “Find them! Find the strangers else the King destroy us all!”

While a plaintive cry, Joker refused to even pause. He slammed open the servant door. Slammed it right into someone.

Or something.

He could actually hear the splat alongside the sound of something cracking.

Probably best not to look back. 

A low hanging mist drifted within the passageway. A sickly yellow illumination coming from the haze as it moved with purpose, actively seeking out the living.,

Well, at least it was light. Creepy light, but light. 

Joker turned to the left, hoping the servant’s passages would prove fairly straightforward. If it ran parallel he could still mostly backtrack. 

“Put me down.”

Joker stopped. “You sure?”

“You’ll need energy.”

True enough. Joker carefully bent his legs to Akechi could get down. His peer immediately leaned against the wall. 

He looked awful, and Joker doubted it was just the lighting. Puss and blood slowly oozed from the line around Akechi’s face where the mask had rested. One eye was completely swollen shut, and a line of clear gunk ran down his face. Hair matted by blood indicated a head wound.

His clothing didn’t help the effect. Tattered yellowed scraps of his Crow outfit clung to some spots, while faded black and dark purple hung to others. 

His breaths were deep and labored.

“Need a plan,” Akechi wheezed. 

Joker nodded. But what? He hadn’t properly cased the place at all, and had no idea how to navigate the servant’s halls. 

Akechi closed his one good eye. “Was the food warm?”

“Never tried any.”

“Hmm.”

“Why?”

“Keep going straight.”

Of course he didn’t bother to explain. Then again, the yellow mist seemed to slowly rise, and Joker didn’t want to find out what it did if inhaled.

Akechi gently pushed off the wall. “And be ready. It might lead to servant’s quarters.”

Joker reached an arm around Akechi’s shoulders. 

“I don’t-”

“Yes, you do.”

“Heh.” Akechi tossed his left arm over Joker’s shoulders. “Very well.” A harsh edge permeated his voice, but a small smile betrayed gratefulness. 

It would do. 

The two slowly walked forward, Akechi leaning against Joker to keep himself standing. 

The passageway slowly wound down, with only a few doors lining the hall. Akechi had explained they probably lead to other important rooms. Given that this one went down, they had agreed it still seemed the best bet. 

Mona would have his head for not having an escape route. 

And for bringing Akechi? Was that even really possible? Joker still wasn’t convinced he wasn’t just dreaming, but at the same time…

Akechi felt very warm. His ragged breathing very loud. And his weight, far less than it should have been for a man his size, very real. 

“What’s wrong?” Akechi whispered. 

“Wondering what happens when we get out,” Joker admitted. 

“Don’t.”

Joker slowed. “Crow…”

“Keep going,” Akechi urged.

Right. One problem at a time. If they didn’t get out of here, then what might happen to Akechi in real world wouldn’t matter. 

Joker pushed forward, carefully descending until the sloping hall flattened out. Three doors presented themselves. One on each side, and one above. A ladder descended from the door above. 

“Up,” Akechi hissed. 

“You think?”

He vaguely nodded, the motion signaled more by the rub against Joker’s jacket than anything visual. “The mist…”

Akechi was right, the yellow mist was getting thicker, and higher. 

“Can you climb?”

“Go first. Make sure it’s clear.” Akechi pushed off Joker’s shoulder to learn against the wall. 

“Will you be okay?”

Akechi snorted. Joker sighed, but understood that to mean he didn’t think he’d get worse at least, and moved toward the ladder. 

Ascending the ladder was simple enough. Joker checked the latch. No locking mechanism, just a simple bar. 

Once locked, it would be impossible to get in from the outside. 

The latch slid easily. He pushed on the door. It opened silently to the outside.

And the awful stench of the flying creatures. A screech resounded through the night sky, descending into the passage and bouncing against the stone. 

Joker slid down the ladder. “You sure?”

“That smell. I have an idea.”

Joker nodded for Akechi to continue. 

“This smell. I remember it.”

He remembered the smell of rotting corpses?

“Flying, vulture-like creatures.” Akechi looked up to Joker, who silently confirmed the description with a nod. 

“They’re what brought me here.”

Joker’s eyes widened behind his mask. He didn’t remember seeing, or smelling, the horrible beasts in Shido’s Palace. 

Akechi seemed to catch his confusion. “Not from there.” He placed a hand to his forehead. “I don’t know. I just remember: it made me drink something. Something sweet.”

Joker thought of nature videos where a bird barfed up partially digested meals for it chicks. 

“And then,” Akechi grimaced, “stars.”

“Stars?”

“Hmm-hm. I think we need to ride them.”

That seemed like a leap of logic.

“I know it sounds weird, and I don’t know how it works, but those creatures,” Akechi took a deep breath, “I think they’re our way out.”

Joker too his own steadying breath. “Alright. Any ideas how?”

“Unfortunately not.”

“Oh well,” Joker knelt so Akechi could climb onto his back. “If you hold, I can climb.” 

The not heavy enough weight once more settled on his shoulders. Joker stood, and was pleased at the effort Akechi made to maintain balance. He even hoisted his legs around Joker’s hips.

“I’ll hold your legs once we’re up.”

“Just go, idiot.”

Joker smiled. Despite not appearing any stronger, the quip gave him hope that Akechi would recover. 

Besides, it might be kind of fun getting to know Akechi while he was too tired to lie. 

Joker rushed up the ladder, bursting out of the underground passage and to the nearest cover he could see. 

A hedge with night-blooming blossoms did the trick. Plus, it’s own sweet fragrance was almost enough to cover the smell from the flying monsters. 

Joker really wished he knew what to call them.

He grabbed Akechi’s legs. He could feel the other man shifting around on his back. 

They had emerged in a large garden. Drifting lights swirled in the distance, but it was quite dark by the exit. 

Once more, Joker regretting not casing the place ahead of time. 

A screech sounded, followed by a scream. 

Another voice shouted into the night, “My rule ends with Carcosa’s fall.”

Joker heard Akechi mutter, “Carcosa.”

The voice, which Joker realized must be the older woman, continued, “And no emperor in rags shall take it away from me.”

“Emperor. Carcosa.” Akechi lifted his hands slightly, looking at the tattered rags which clung to him. “Yellow.”

“Where to?” Even without seeing him, Joker thought he could hear the cogs in Akechi’s brain spinning. Futaba did the same things sometimes. She’d seem distant, but her mind would actually be putting together a string of puzzle pieces no one else even realized connected. Actually, Yusuke did that too. 

“Byakhee,” Akechi finally whispered.

“What?”

“The creatures. They’re byakhee.” 

“How do you know that?”

“Necronomicon.” Akechi continued, “When researching everyone’s persona, Ms. Sakura’s Necronomicon stood out. I remembered reading about it online. There was a video game, I don’t know.” Akechi’s head hit Joker’s. “They fly through space. If you can survive it, you can ride them.”

Joker had read stories about Futaba’s persona too, but he didn’t remember any mention of byakhee. “Alright then. How do we board?”

“Stowaway,” Akechi murmured. 

Joker gripped him tighter. He began to form his own plans, and none of them seemed very good. 

“They’ll come.”

Was that supposed to be reassuring?

“And then what?”

“Bird barf.”

Joker took a deep breath. Bird barf. Great. “Any advice?”

“They smell.”

“That’s just a fact,” Joker quipped. He took another deep breath. “Ready?”

Akechi tightened his grip. 

Joker burst into a run, heading straight for the nearest flying creature, the nearest byakhee, he could find. 

It screeched, coming right at them. 

Joker didn’t have a free hand to physically remove his mask, instead willing it to spread out into Arsene’s wings. 

The persona swept above the two humans. The byakhee extended its claws. Arsene slammed into its back, shoving the byakhee downward. 

Joker stopped his run just in time, the large creature crashing down right in front of him. To Akechi’s credit, he managed to hold his balance. 

The byakhee began to stumble to its feet and wingtips. Still unsure how to do this safely, Joker decided he’d just worry about getting it done for now.

“Let go!”

“What?” Despite his protest, Akechi loosened his grip.

Joker took a few steps back, and then ran again. This time right alongside the still staggering byakhee. He cupped his hands tightly under Akechi. 

He felt his passenger tense. 

Good. He was catching on. 

And so Akechi was ready when Joker hurled him onto the byakhee’s back. Ready to throw in whatever strength he could to make it possible. Ready to grab hold. Ready to extend an arm. 

Joker leapt, grabbing the hand and hoisting himself up. 

The smell nauseated him. 

This must be what Hiroshima smelt like after the bomb, he thought. All those bodies and all that destruction left to the wind. And then bundled all together in the concentrated form of a byakhee. 

The struggling byakhee. Joker reached around Akechi to grab at a mangled clump of hair.

The byakhee stood.

“Think of home,” Akechi instructed, his voice soft. 

He didn’t have much longer, the adrenaline taking him as far as it could. 

Home. Joker thought of the Leblanc attic. He thought of the smell of coffee.

The byakhee raised itself high.

He thought of his little sister finishing up high school in Saga. He thought of making her curry over the summer.

A rush of wind and the sound of leather striking scales. The byakhee began to rise. 

He thought of Morgana. If Joker was physically here and Morgana wasn’t, then did that mean he had just disappeared in the night? 

He had to get back to Morgana. To say he was alright. 

The wing beats wafted the horrible smell back around the byakhee’s back, encasing its riders in it. 

Joker thought once more of coffee and curry. Hmm, and the baked goods Mr. Sakai made for Cafe Dumas. They always blended so well with the smell of freshly brewed coffee and hot chocolate. 

Winter was approaching the small city, and snow would likely fall soon. It would be so cold and Cafe Dumas so warm. Mr. Sakai would bug him about scheduling and being polite to customers without making every girl fall for him, and he’d complain about the cat but would still make Morgana tuna salads. 

He thought of Akechi there. Saw an image of the once detective reading and sipping coffee on one of the couches.

“Cafe Dumas,” he whispered. Home. At least, for now. 

The byakhee went almost straight into the sky. 

Joker clutched it scales, leaning against Akechi as hard as he could. 

His companion didn’t feel warm enough now either. 

Arsene wrapped its wings around the both of them. 

Darkness more intense than Joker had ever known surrounded them. 

  
  
  
  
  


_ Lost Carcosa. _

**Author's Note:**

> I am so excited to finally be posting this! I first properly wrote it down for National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) two years ago. It has since been rewritten, part two totally redone in last year's WriMo, and is ready to start posting. I'm making a point of posting by the part to avoid leaving people hanging if I lose steam.
> 
> If there are other tags you think I should place on this story, please let me know. I try to be good with tags, but it doesn't always work out. I edit every chapter one last time before I post, so if I see anything I'll add it.


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